Hawk Revisited
Told of the hawk on the rail
friends wink.
'A hawk? In the Barrio'?
Not knowing what to think
they glance at each other, first, then at their knees,
stare at the vacant rail, then back at me
as if I'd claimed to see
an elf in Bermudas sipping a Sea-Breeze;
hasten to agree
concluding my mistake, if any, harmless-
the sort of thing that happens every day,
'Goodbye', say, and quickly slip away.
Till I conclude the raptor on the rail
the ruins of a burst balloon
snatched by the wind from some child's bouquet
caught, now, on the rail's disjointed finger;
or, drifting in place
an expirant shred of sooty plastic;
some out-the-window flung
sheer article of lingerie;
a wretched mistake-
an hallucination
a figment of imagination,
indigestion-
anything but the hawk it was.
poem by Morgan Michaels
Added by Poetry Lover
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